


Scream Until Your Lungs Give Out

by Anaya_of_Wolves



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Banshee Molly O'Shea, Banshee Powers, Banshees, Depression, Fae & Fairies, Fair Folk, Folklore, Gen, Hurt No Comfort, Irish Folklore, Pain, Slow corrupting descent, fey folk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-29
Updated: 2019-01-29
Packaged: 2019-10-18 17:01:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17584775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anaya_of_Wolves/pseuds/Anaya_of_Wolves
Summary: Her nan had warned her many times over.  About those that lived in the forests and woods, who made their home within the earth and about it.  She had listened well to her stories, learned the lessons, but nothing could protect her so well against the true pain she found herself dealing with.People.





	Scream Until Your Lungs Give Out

**Author's Note:**

> I got this idea a week or two ago about Molly and something about fairies and banshees. So, this was spawned, as well as a few other ideas for supernatural stuff happening to the gang. I might get to writing those ideas as well. Check out my [Tumblr](http://anaya-of-wolves.tumblr.com/) for more stuff.

Her nan had warned her when she was young. Not to go into the woods, to walk among the trees without fear in her heart if she did, and to give to what is due to them. They were suspicious folk and none too caring to outsiders. But if she remembered to give what she could and remembered her nan's words for them, then Molly O'Shea wouldn't be taken or worse by the folks of the woods.   


_ Respect is admired by them.  They enjoy knowing that they have something we don’t.  So we offer to them boons to insure that we give to them that which they think is owed. _

  
They were called many things, being as they were many things. Molly could list off a handful or two of their names locked in her heart and memories.  But those names were never used here. 

She once mentioned it to the old woman Susan, to see if she knew anything about the folk who live in these kinds of woods and what to do about them, and got a funny look for her troubles.  The older woman told her to stop talking about nonsense and fairytales. But fairy tales were important! Molly had thought so, even after coming far from Ireland to this country. But soon enough, Molly knew that the people here didn't understand. They didn't understand the natural world, the world that it was and not as it is.

_ Their world is our world, sweet girl.  To them we are like the animals in the woods.  We don’t know better. But to us they are like the shadows and the wind.  Can’t control them or move them. Aye, men tried to, but the folk of the woods can exact a revenge most swift.  Just remember that you walk among their trees and their homes, just as much as they walk among ours. _   
  
Molly knew she came from money, even before she had to work for it as much as she could in camp.  That meant she had never worked directly on the land that the fair folk could disturb. But that didn't mean she hadn't believed in them or understood a  threat and a boon they could be while on their land. Those in the camp didn’t understand how lucky they were that she was here, that she knew ways to keep the other folk happy when they grew restless of their company in these woods.  But her otherness seemed to paint such an unfair target on her back among those of the camp, even if Dutch had taken such a liking to her. Their own leader couldn’t make them like her. It was unfair of them to think that she could be like them, work like them.  But soon enough, she had to learn to and keep to the respect and owe that was due.

The other woman were just jealous of how she grew up, Molly soon found out.  They eyed her with such terrible gazes that she thought that maybe they were of the forests.  But she also knew that she was being watched more than just the lecherous gazes from the men at camp and the jealousy from the women. She could feel it deep in her bones as they made their way to the next spot for camp..   
  
**_Molly_ ** , she could feel them calling for her as they rode down the path through a forest of one or another territory in this wild country,  **_Come to us Molly. We know you can hear us. Come back to us_ ** **.**   
  
She pulled her shawl closer to her body and hunched her shoulders. It looked like she was battling against the chilly air. She had chills too. But it was not the weather, not completely.  They may have been causing that too.   
  
**_Child of bitterness, hair as red as blood. Come to us, and we will give you all that you want._ ** ****  
  
"Shut up," she muttered to them and hoped they would listen to her.  Although, it earned her a nasty look from one of the women. Molly didn't care. They may not be able to hear them, but that didn't mean they weren't just outside the wagon. Following them like a mangy, hungry dog. How they had found her here, that she did not know. Maybe they hadn't, maybe this was their woods.

_ You are a beauty, a rare flower in the glean.  They see that as something to want. Better not give them what they want.  They take and hide and want so much. That’s why they can be no different than people.  Never let them get what they want without giving back in return. No name for without a name, no gift without a gift in exchange.  They want something because it is for wanting. You are not to be wanting them wanting that. _

She climbed out of the wagon when it stopped, hoping for a place not so surrounded, so consumed by the woods.  Of course, when she peered out and stepped out, her disappointment was heavy. But maybe, just maybe, they weren’t around.

Then came the breeze-like whispers through the trees as she kept to the center of the new campsite, away from all sides of the treeline that threatened to consume them.

**_We will protect you, care for you.  Don’t be afraid, Molly. Don’t fear us.  We want to keep you safe._ **

Molly didn’t know why they would say those things, trying and failing to remember what her nan had said about that.  Were they even telling the truth to her? She doubted that much, but soon found the woman Grimshaw thrusting a rolled up canvas into her arms and telling her to help.  Molly frowned at the woman, but she still went on to do the work. All with the whispers in her ears from the trees.

 

**~ >~>~>~>~>~>~>~>~>~>~>~>~>~>~>~>~>~>~>~>~>~>~>~>~**

  
  
The moon was full and bright tonight.  It was a perfect night for those that enjoyed it.  The wild ones, the ones who danced in the pale moonlight as one would in the sunlight.  A perfect night to move among the patches of moonlight and shadows.

It was a night she made the offering to them.  She hadn’t done this in a while, feeling her hands shake a bit as she slipped a little a ways from camp carrying the bowl.  A few drips already had escaped passed the rim, but most of it still remained.

She was careful to follow the patches of light, seeing nothing else without them.  Sounds of animals and beasts seemed so far away and so close all at once. That meant they were nearby, not just the animals that live in the woods.

_ Offer what you may, give them something good and sweet.  The sweeter calms their sourness. Honey from their friends the bees, milk from the cows they talk to, and bread from the wheat they helped to grow.  We tend to offer that but offer what you know. _

Her nan would have laughed as she walked with a bowl of stew, so overcooked and bitter with herbs.  But it was made of that which grew and lived in the woods. So, she set the bowl down on a patch of moonlight.  The campfire in the distance looked like an eye, watching her. Were they watching her? Judging her?

“Don’t judge me,” she muttered to herself, to them, before she spoke softly to the woods around her, “just, take it and keep us safe.  That’s all I ask.”

A gentle breeze was her response.  Molly swallowed hard before turning and heading back to camp.  It was best not to linger around, waiting for them, because they do not share gifts.  They also do not like to be watched. Molly could understand that.

But she just hoped that they would honor her plea.  All she wanted was safety, with Dutch, with this group.  Safety among the trees and among these wild people.

**_We will.  Keep you safe.  Drive away all that wants to harm you and harms you.  We will, we shall._ **

This voice among the trees frightened her still but reassured her as her nan would.  It made her feel young again. Young and safe, even though a distance howl of a wolf made her footsteps faster to get back to camp.

One of the men jeered at her, asking if she dropped her bowl in the woods.  She replied she hadn’t, but they all laughed as though it was a joke. What she had one was a joke to them.  They didn’t understand, which made her face as red as her hair. Quickly, she turned away from them and stomped back to her tent.  They would understand when they would be kept safe because of her.

 

**~ >~>~>~>~>~>~>~>~>~>~>~>~>~>~>~>~>~>~>~>~>~>~>~>~**

 

He was ignoring her!

She tried to speak with him, be happy with him, show him that she cared.  But he didn't want to listen to her! All he had was this bitterness inside of him that festered like an untreated boil.  Was he so wrapped up in his own mind that he didn’t see her?!

Molly knew her answer as she screamed at those that would laugh at her and drank away the pain she felt.

Maybe it had been a bad idea to give to the wood folk, maybe they had cursed her instead of bless her like they promised they would.  Now she was stuck here.

This place in the swamps, where she could feel herself being drained by the very air, was no home.  No place to remain. The whole building would collapse into the mud, should collapse in the mud. That way then everything would sink away, away from the pain and death and running they all continued to do.  This was no life, no life at all. Molly knew that she should have better than this, had better than this. Everything was wrong.

Even those of the trees and water felt different.  They were sharper, full of malice that she could feel.  Would even them of the trees give her a gift now if she offered them one?  Maybe she shouldn’t bother them. Maybe they would just laugh at her like those of the gang do.  They would laugh at her with their voices of the wind and breezes, snapping at her like those ugly things in the waters.

_ Never blame them for anything.  What they do is their business. Be it misery or melody, they are their own masters.  We can no better control them than one would the passing seasons. Do not forget that they were always here. _

Molly wished that they would help.  She really did. They would know how to fix this mess.  Because they could do miracles, like her nan told her stories about their boons and kindness when afforded.

She needed some kindness as she watched from the corner of a run down building as the man she once loved dearly ignored her.  Ignored her just as she didn’t want to be ignored.

 

**~ >~>~>~>~>~>~>~>~>~>~>~>~>~>~>~>~>~>~>~>~>~>~>~>~**

  
  
She was delirious, half mad and half sane.  The alcohol she had consumed consumed her back.  Had she had that much? She couldn’t recall if she had.  Just that she was so angry, so very angry.

They told her so many things, things of truth and lies. What to believe?  Had she told them anything or everything? Honestly, she couldn’t remember.  All she knew was that she wanted to hurt him, hurt him as much as she had been hurt herself.

She couldn't find her control now, yelling at him to just look at her. It was slipping away like sand in her fingers.  He wasn't, didn't care. How had she lost him? Had they done this to her?

They of the forest, who had kept whispering to her night after night in her stupors and hazes.  They told her a lot of things, things she didn’t want to think on.

They of the gang, who slowly began to die off one by one.  They left her, abandoned her, when she needed them the most.  Had they always been so heartless to her?

So, she yelled and spit fire and blood.  She wanted them all to hear, here and within the woods.  If they were punishing her, so be it. She would not back down!  Molly O’Shea would not let anyone or anything push her around any longer.  She wanted them all to know that. Her nan may have warned her of the dangers the world possessed, but she was not afraid anymore of them!

**BAM!**   
  
The shot scared her.  It made her shoulders jump before staggering to the side.  Her eyes looked at him with such sorrow now, knowing that was a cruel man.  A heartless man. They had been right, always right. They of the fair folk had warned her that this man was one of dark, of shade and death.  But she hadn’t listened to them.

_ They of the woods do not lie.  It is not in their nature to lie, just as dogs and cats don’t lie.  It is not that they can’t, they surely could if they wanted to, but to them lying isn’t worth it.  To say the truth is much easier to them, because they feel no regret or shame. People have forgotten what that is like, or they never learned it in the first place. _

Then the warmth hit before the earth raised up to meet her.  The soft earth cradled her like she was a child again. Her ears couldn't hear the group speak about her no more, but she still could hear them.  They had watched, while doing nothing, and stayed with her until the very end. It was fitting, at least.   
  
**_Don't worry, don't be frightened. We shall keep you company now.  You shall not be alone anymore. You can’t be, not with us around.  Please sleep, and you shall awaken whole and new. A new form for you, child of pain.  You are cared for, you are. Sleep now, rest now. You are with us now._ **   
  
Their voices lulled her like one of her nan's lullabies as her eyes shut finally.  Sleep, it was a good idea from them.

  
  
**~ >~>~>~>~>~>~>~>~>~>~>~>~>~>~>~>~>~>~>~>~>~>~>~>~**

  
  
The darkness of the woods surrounded her as she moved pass trees and darkened patches under the starry night.  She was not afraid anymore. The woods were her home; they knew her just as much as she had come to know them. Her form shimmered through the trees and set small animals off in a hurry away from her.  They were afraid of what she had become, given a gift by those of the woods.

The camp was just before her, as though she hadn’t left it just days ago.  But she could see now how rotted it was, how empty it was. A place of sadness and death, so fitting for her to return to.  She knew her purpose now, knowing it in her death as one would know instinct.

They were either asleep or gone.  Perfect. She continued to walk her way through camp with footsteps that made no sound.  The horses had already begun to neigh and whinny at her arrival, but she paid them no mind.  Only when the tent was just a few more feet away did she finally stop.

“What is wrong-”  That voice, once so sweet on her, announced his appearance, leading him to poke his head out of the tent.  All disheveled and unkempt, just like he was soon going to feel tenfold now.

He then saw her again. That she knew. The darkness of the night couldn't stop him from seeing her.  How she wore a new pale dress that seemed crafted out of fog, how her long red hair flowed like liquid since there was no need to keep it pulled up, her skin as pale as death, and her eyes as bright as shining vengeance.

All of this he saw of her, and he finally looked afraid . Afraid of something now.  Afraid of her. 

Good.   
  
"How-" he began, reaching for a gun that would do no good against her. She could not be killed again, not by him or anyone else.   
  
"Dutch…” she spoke so softly, like a whisper of care, before her mouth wretched open to let loose a scream, “ **DUTCH VAN DER LINDE** !" 

Her wails could have traveled from one country to another. Loudness could have awoken the camp, had anyone cared to have been her family to listen.  But none had been, so only he would hear her tonight.

It shook him to his bones. It made her happy to see that he was finally listening to her!  So, she did not stop wailing and screaming. No breath was needed now, since her lungs only helped carry the words of her pain and agony.  His pain and agony now. Her screams made sure that was the only thing he heard.   
  
"Ahhahh!" he yelled out, falling to his knees before her while trying to cover his ears. A pitiful attempt, she noted as her opened mouth still wailed a scream of pain and hurt at him. All that she had felt before, he would never forget it.   
  
Once she noticed the blood running down the sides of his face, she finally stopped. He then looked up at her, still holding his ears, and looked at her again without disgust. This time he looked at her with fear, pain, and maybe even regret.  

She only could smile back at him with a smile that let him know that she had come back for him.   
  
He stumbled up onto his feet, still staring at her pale form, before he stumbled back like the coward he was back into his tent.. Leaving her again, in the darkness of the camp. She let him leave this time.   
  
**_He will die, he heard her scream. He will die like those that know death is coming to them!_ **   
  
She smiled as the voices encircled her, repeating themselves over and over.  They were right, of course and always. They had lead her this far and would never leave her alone.  She was a part of their kind now as she faded away like mist. They had given her this gift, one last gift to return to the man who had taken everything from her.


End file.
